Gave Me Your Heart of Rusty Nails, Now You Ask Why it Impales
by Vita Fidens
Summary: Sequel to "Fucking A Loaded Gun." Liz Moore returns to Dean Ambrose with reluctance, but hope for her future. Will this horrible homecoming shatter her faith? Rated M: Sex, Violence, Rape
1. Chapter 1

Ambrose paced the hotel room like a caged animal.

My nose was still trickling blood and I could feel my upper lip swelling. I cautiously ran my tongue over my teeth to make sure they were all still there. Thankfully, they were. None of them even felt loose.

Our reunion, of course, hadn't been without immediate and sudden violence. The moment the door shut behind me, he had hit me in the face. Hard.

I had half-expected this and took it without complaint. Saying anything at all would have only made him angrier – and my fate would have been much worse than a bloody nose and a fat lip.

Now I sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped between my knees, waiting to see what would happen next.

He paused to light a cigarette and then kept pacing. A quick glance around the room told me that this had probably been what his night had consisted of as well - the ashtray was overflowing and, save my own imprint from sitting, the bed had been untouched.

Abruptly, he stopped pacing in front of me. I kept my eyes trained on the floor, attempting to keep myself calm.

He brought his hand up and slowly ran his thumb over my swollen lip. I heard him exhale and could smell the smoke he expelled.

He hadn't said a word yet. In a way, that was more terrifying than if he had been screaming at me. I'd never known Ambrose to be silent like this.

His hand slid away from my face. I kept my eyes trained on his boots. He had apparently never bothered to undress after last night, remaining in his black fatigue-style pants and black t-shirt. It didn't do much to ease my mind.

I heard rather than saw him unzip his pants. A wave of fear and anger washed over me – I could not, would not, have sex with this man again.

His pants and boxers hit the floor with a soft thump, and his free hand gripped my hair tightly. He wound my curls around his fist to ensure that he wouldn't lose his grip, and then yanked my head back to look at him.

He studied me for a few long minutes, the tip of his cigarette glowing orange as he inhaled. Using my hair as a handle, he turned my face to the right and then to the left, surveying the damage he'd done.

Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he sucked on his upper teeth, making a small popping noise as he pulled his tongue away from them. I knew enough about his facial tics to know that it meant he was considering something, and I further knew that it probably wouldn't be a good thing for me.

Having made up his mind, he popped the cigarette back into my mouth and guided my face to his dick. The dawning realization of what he was going to make me do nearly made me sick.

He pressed himself against my lips, which remained firmly shut.

"Open your mouth, Elizabeth," he said around his cigarette.

I wouldn't do it. He yanked my head back again and back-handed me, hitting the opposite side of my face.

"I am in no mood," he growled. "Do as you're told."

He wrenched my head back down, and I did what he wanted.

I closed my eyes, thinking about Smackdown. I tried to mentally name the entire roster. I started making matches in my head. I did anything I could to not be in that room, sitting on that bed, with Ambrose's dick in my mouth.

Eventually, he became too intense to ignore. He was holding my hair at a painful angle, fucking my throat with increasing violence. At one point, I became afraid that I was going to choke. He chose that precise moment to reach down and clamp my nostrils shut with two fingers. After ten seconds or so, I had nightmares about the coroner's report – suffocated while fellating a psychopath. Just what every girl dreams of.

Thankfully, after a few more seconds he let go. I was able to pull back, gasping for air. I only had a moment's reprieve before he pushed my head forward again.

His breath was coming faster now, the cigarette hanging forgotten in his hand.

Finally, mercifully, he wrenched his dick out of my mouth. I managed to close my eyes a split second before he came all over my face. I should have expected that.

He sighed and I heard him take one last puff of his cigarette. Suddenly, there was a hot, searing pain on my shoulder.

I gasped and opened my eyes to see him grinding his cigarette butt into my flesh. I was his very own human ashtray.

He flicked the butt away casually, his other hand unwinding itself from my hair. Reaching down, he pulled his pants back up.

"Go clean yourself up," he muttered, sounding disgusted.

Numbly, I stood and made my way to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, intending to have a bit of a pity party. It wasn't meant to be – after a few moments, Ambrose flung the door open so hard that it reverberated off of the bathtub and nearly hit him in the face on the rebound.

"Doors are a privilege, not a right," he snapped. "You've lost all privileges with me, Elizabeth." His eyes quickly wandered down and then back up. "In fact, clothing is a privilege as well. Take that fucking shit off. When we are behind closed doors, you are not to wear clothing. In public, you will wear what I tell you to wear. Is that clear?"

I didn't answer him. I just took my clothes off, folding them neatly as I went, and stacked them on the counter beside the sink. Ambrose then watched me scrub my face and gently wash out the burn on my shoulder.

Finally done, I turned to face him. He stared at me for a few long minutes before stepping slightly out of the way to allow me into the room. I walked by with as much courage as I could muster, holding my head up.

He stopped me by grabbing me around the waist from behind.

"Don't you _ever_ do that to me again," he murmured into my ear.


	2. Chapter 2

Ambrose didn't say much after that.

Instead, he shoved me towards the bed. I lay down, facing the wall. I didn't even want to look at him.

He didn't seem to care. He slid into the bed behind me and wrapped his arm around my torso, finally curling his hand around my breast. Within minutes, he was breathing deeply and evenly.

I lay awake for a long time, watching the afternoon sun traverse its way across the sky, turning the room from pale to golden-yellow and, eventually, to the light purple of twilight.

I must have slept. I woke on my back, the only light in the room the orange tip of a cigarette in the bed beside me.

I blinked away the vestiges of sleep, momentarily debating on simply returning to that state – it was much more preferable to pass the time that way than awake. Before I could really make the decision, Ambrose clicked on the bedside lamp, flooding the room with pale white light.

He stared down at me for a few moments, taking a slow drag off of his cigarette before twisting away and stubbing it out in the now-emptied ashtray on the nightstand.

He turned back towards me and slid himself down in the bed a bit before leaning over me. Lightly, his fingers traced my still-swollen lip and over a sore area on my cheek that I assumed had bruised.

"You've never looked more beautiful," he said quietly, bending down to plant a soft kiss on my lips.

He hovered over my face for a few moments, his eyes boring into mine. "Would you care to tell me what the fuck you were thinking yesterday?"

I kept quiet. This was my new strategy. If I didn't say anything at all, I couldn't say the wrong thing – the thing that would make both of us angry and cause one of us to snap.

He tilted his head. "You don't have anything to say?"

I blinked a few times, remaining silent. He raised an eyebrow and then snorted a derisive laugh. "That's how you want to play, then? All right." He slid out of my line of view. I watched him from the corner of my eye grab his pack of cigarettes and pull another one out.

He lit it up and smoked quietly for a few moments. I could feel the tension building in his body and became increasingly tense myself. Maybe I should speak. Maybe I should simply watch my mouth and watch my temper instead of taking a Monastic vow of silence.

I hated feeling so on-edge. I'd felt very confident in my ability to handle Ambrose before the last twenty-four hours had ripped into my life, screaming and tearing away any vestige of capability I thought I'd had.

"I really thought you wouldn't break so easily, Lizzy," he finally said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I thought you were made of tougher stuff." He shook his head. "I'm very…disappointed. I managed to best you in two days."

He glanced down at me. "You're paralyzed in your own skin you're so afraid of me."

I felt my temper stirring and I glanced over at him briefly before staring back up at the ceiling.

"Are you trying to tell me you're not afraid? Just look at you. Meek and mild, doing everything I say without a moment's hesitation. It sickens me. _You_ sicken me."

I felt my teeth clench almost involuntarily. I forced myself to relax. Getting angry wasn't going to do a damn bit of good. Let him be disgusted by me. That was fine.

"You let me slap you around like a bitch, and then you suck my dick without complaint. You let me grind my cigarette into your fucking shoulder, again with no word of complaint. You strip naked for my amusement and give away your privacy, all to try and keep me happy. All to try and keep me complacent and to keep me from hurting you." He shook his head, pursing his lips.

"It doesn't make me happy, Lizzy. It doesn't make me happy at all." He scratched angrily at the back of his head.

"Good," I whispered through my puffy lips. My voice was cracked and dry. Hearing him toll up the afternoon had done nothing to calm my temper.

He raised his eyebrows and looked down at me. "What did you say?"

I licked my lips and swallowed hard. Well. I was in it now. Might as well go for it. "I said that I'm fucking glad you're not happy, Ambrose." My voice sounded a little bit stronger.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "She speaks," he said mockingly.

I stared up at him for a moment, making sure our eyes were locked. "Don't mistake my complacency for fear. Don't mistake my compliance with weakness. Those would be very grave errors on your part."

His eyes narrowed and he regarded me with interest for the few moments I held his gaze. Then, slowly and determined, I returned to staring up at the ceiling.

I didn't speak for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

I could feel Ambrose studying me throughout the next few days, attempting to catch me off guard.

It didn't work.

I felt comfortable with silence after the first day. It was an oddly nice change of pace to listen and not speak.

The fourth day saw us driving to our next destination with Rollins and Reigns. Heyman had apparently given Ambrose the night I'd returned off, and we had stayed behind to have our glorious reunion. We caught up to them the next day, and were traveling with them again by the following morning.

I settled into the back with Rollins, still not speaking. Ambrose drove faster and more aggressively than usual, which is saying something.

We stopped at a gas station outside of Kansas City, and Ambrose stormed out to get more cigarettes.

"This silence thing is really getting to him," Rollins said after he'd walked into the store.

I turned and gave him a malicious grin. Reigns noticed in the rearview and gave a small snort. "He might have been right about you, Ms. Moore. You might be one of the only people in the world that knows how to handle him."

"Only in small doses," I managed to say after clearing my throat. My voice sounded strange to me. "I'll be glad when this is over."

Seth glanced at me curiously. "Why didn't you leave when you had the chance?"

I looked between him and Reigns, who were both regarding me with interest.

"I was encouraged quite strongly to finish out the contract," I elected to say after a few moments. "By Mr. McMahon," I added.

Reigns nodded. "That sucks," he surprised me by saying.

"Yeah," Rollins agreed.

Ambrose came back out of the store, already ripping the pack open. He'd been chain smoking since waking up yesterday morning. A not-too-small part of me was very satisfied to see that.

He wrenched open Rollins' door. "You drive," he snapped. "I need a fucking break."

Seth glanced over at me, his eyes widening momentarily before stepping out and getting into the driver's seat.

Ambrose settled into the seat beside me. I kept my gaze straight ahead, as if the back of Roman's head was the most fascinating sight in the world.

I could see him staring at me from the corner of my eye, his upper lip curling in anger and confusion.

We were ten minutes into the drive when he finally spoke.

"Would you guys like to know a little bit about our Lizzy, here?" He asked, puffing out his last bit of cigarette before tossing it out the window.

I very slowly turned to regard him, keeping my eyes locked on him for a minute, before I turned to stare ahead again.

"Well? Would you?" He repeated, annoyed.

"Dean," Seth said, his voice sounding tired.

"Lizzy," Ambrose plowed on, as if he'd heard the response he wanted, "is a fucking coward. She can't handle it when she has to do the dirty work herself and she can't hire boys to take care of the big, scary monsters under her bed."

Eh. It was essentially the same thing he'd said to me four nights ago in the hotel. I kept my eyes forward, attempting to keep my facial expression blank. Any sign of an emotional response would only fuel his fire.

After a few minutes, he elected to take a different approach. "She's also one of the worst fucks I've ever had. Dead fish, not at all inventive, sloppy with no technique. Her pussy felt like loosely-wrapped dried-out roast beef. Disgusting."

Unable to help myself on this one, I turned and smiled at him serenely before turning back. The additional benefit of having to stay quiet was that I was much more peaceful and wasn't completely inclined to clawing his eyes out in moments like these.

He gave a frustrated sigh of annoyance. "Would you fucking say something?" He snapped. "Anything? Tell me the fucking weather report; I don't care. Just say _some_thing," he seethed.

I mentally groaned. He'd used the magic phrasing without even realizing it – he had told me that I had to do something.

I turned and regarded him coolly for a minute. "Roman has very nice hair," I finally said, turning back around to face front.

"Thank you," Reigns said, sounding surprised.

I nodded in reply.

Ambrose went silent for a few minutes, stewing. Finally, he exploded. "FUCK THIS SHIT," he practically screamed, beating his fists against the seat in front of him. Seth nearly ran off the road as a result.

"Christ, Dean! Keep your fucking head, man. You're going to get us killed."

My heart pounding, I turned to look at him one more time. His face was bright red, the veins in his neck standing out. All right. I'd had my fun. It was time.

"Dean," I said quietly. His eyes flashed to me, dangerous and deadly. "Have you had enough?"

He seemed surprised, and it took him a moment to answer. "Yes," he finally said through clenched teeth.

I reached over and grabbed his wrist, holding it tightly. "Don't you _ever_ do that to me again," I said, echoing his words from the night I'd returned.

Realization dawned on his face. I stared into his eyes, letting him see my resolve.

Finally, slowly, he nodded. I let go of his wrist.

In spite of his assertion that he'd had enough, the rest of the drive was silent.


	4. Chapter 4

We were just getting settled into the hotel room when Ambrose began slowly clapping from behind me.

"Bravo," he said dryly. "That was a truly stunning performance."

Electing to be an asshole, I took a bow. "Are we done now?" I asked, turning back towards the bed and unzipping my suitcase. There was something about traveling in a car full of men for a day that always made me want to shower.

"No," he replied, surprising me. I glanced at up him curiously. "We're just getting started." I raised an eyebrow as he stepped towards me, coming close enough that I could feel his breath on my face. "I _will_ break you, Lizzy," he said, reaching out and playing with one of my curls. "I will make you so afraid of me that you can't hear my name without pissing yourself in fear."

I leaned towards him. "Ambrose, you couldn't take less than a week of me simply not speaking to you. You're not going to do shit to me, so let's quit that bullshit right now. You've got me for twenty-three more days. Find me a project. Make me do your laundry or some such nonsense. But stop pretending that you're going to do anything to cause me lasting damage. You wouldn't be able to handle it."

I expected him to have a smart response. Instead, he said nothing for several minutes.

"Did that hit you a little too close to home?" I asked mockingly. "You've been so concerned with making me suffer – did it truly never occur to you that, even in my current position, I could make you suffer right back?"

I leaned forward so that I was whispering directly in his ear. "I told you not to mistake my complacency for weakness. You should have listened to me."

He turned his head towards mine. "I won't be making that mistake again," he growled.

I turned slightly to stare into his eyes. "See that you don't, Ambrose. And be sure to watch your step with me."

The right corner of his lip turned up slowly. "Oh I will, Lizzy," he said quietly, an unnerving smile spreading over his face. "I surely will." He reached up and lightly stroked my hair out of my face before leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine roughly.

He pulled back, staring at my intently, his tongue running over his teeth as he was lost in thought. I didn't like the looks of this.

Rather than stand there and deal with his scrutiny, I turned back to what I'd been doing – grabbing my shower implements in order to scrub the car out of my skin.

I tried not to be unsettled as I went about my business. I'd finally called Ambrose's bluff. There was nothing for me to be frightened of any longer. I had to make it through three more boring weeks, and then I could get on with my life.


	5. Chapter 5

I was surprised when Ambrose insisted on going to a bar following the show that evening. I was further surprised when he invited Rollins and Reigns to come with us.

Generally speaking, he liked to keep me isolated from everyone but himself. Even if all he was going to be doing was staring at me (which had happened quite a bit over the past few days) – he apparently wanted privacy.

I settled in with my beer, Ambrose trailing me while Rollins and Reigns were up at the bar ordering.

"Last chance, Lizzy," Ambrose said slowly.

I turned to look at him, confused. He wasn't drinking tonight, and he still seemed on-edge.

"Last chance for what, exactly?"

"Do you remember what I told you that first night we were together?"

"Vaguely. Which part are you talking about?"

He tilted his head. "I told you that I thought we could be something special. I'll admit, when you ran away…I was angry. I thought I'd been proven wrong on that count, and it hurt." He punched his chest with a close fist. "It hurt me right here. My heart's been broken so many times that I didn't think there was anything left, but apparently there's still something there."

I stared at him for a few minutes, unsure as to what, exactly, I was supposed to be gaining from this conversation. "Ok…?" I said, tilting my head questioningly.

He sighed. "When I thought I'd broken you, I was even angrier. Hell, I was enraged. I thought you were special, but in the end you were just another stupid bitch that couldn't deal with me." He paused. "You proved me wrong. It pissed me off at first, thinking I'd been bested by you – even if only for a few days. But now I realize that my initial instincts were right, as they so often are. We would be _something_, Lizzy." The wonder in his voice made chills run down my spine.

"I'm not going to promise you hearts and flowers and puppies – I'd only break the hearts, kill the flowers, and shoot the dogs. That's just me," He said, placing his hands on his chest palm-down, fingers splayed out and shaking his head. "What I can promise you is that you won't ever be bored. You'd be challenged in a way that you desperately seem to need and – admit it – in a way that you seem to enjoy just as much as I do."

I was momentarily speechless, very much stunned into silence.

"So this is my last chance to decide if I want to be with you?" I finally asked, trying to grasp the important strains of the conversation.

He nodded. "We can call a truce. We can stop trying to hurt each other and start enjoying each other." He reached out and lightly stroked my face. "All of this could end. We could be happy."

I stared at him, horror mingled with shock. Finally, I captured his hand with mine and gently rested it on the table in front of him. "No," I said, shaking my head. "We couldn't be happy, Ambrose. This rosy picture is certainly not you. You're too twisted to ever really be happy. You enjoy the misery too much; you enjoy the pain. You'd find a way to mutilate any decent relationship until it fit into your broken world view. I'm not going to be a part of that." I paused. "I'm going to pass the rest of my time with you, and once I finally escape from this nightmare – you will never see me again." 'Unless it's a pay-per-view,' I mentally added, 'and even then I'm going to do my best to hide behind Khali so you can't really see me.'

For a moment, he actually looked hurt. His face fell out of its usual hard lines and softened, his shoulders shrinking. It only took seconds for him to contort back into his angular lines, but for that brief moment I saw that he'd been sincere.

"Have it your way, Elizabeth," he replied. "Just remember that I offered this to you, and you turned it down. You remember that when things get to be too much to bear later on – I offered you a way out, and you said no."

He turned to walk away. "Watch her," I heard him say to Reigns, who was coming back to the table with his and Rollins' beers. Reigns nodded and sat down opposite me.

"You're being watched," he said solemnly, his deep voice booming. Then his lips split into a wide grin.

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'll make sure I'm on my best behavior," I promised, taking a sip of my beer.

"Oh come on, one table dance won't kill you."

"No, but if he sees me doing any sort of table dancing, Ambrose might."

His brow crinkled. "Fair point."

Rollins came back shortly after, and before long the three of us were conversing quite easily. Reigns didn't say much, but when he contributed to the conversation it was pretty worthwhile. Seth and I simply geeked out together, discussing our favorite books, movies, and video games.

We passed most of the night like that, with no signs of Ambrose nearby. I searched the room for him occasionally, at first finding him in different places in the bar, before he disappeared from my line of sight all together.

I found that it didn't bother me. I was having fun, oddly enough.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket after about two hours. I didn't really want to be bothered with it and ignored the call. In turn, Seth's phone rang – and then Roman's. Finally, mine rang again. I checked the ID – Ambrose, of course.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Come up to our room."

I sighed. "On my way," I replied, and then hung up. "Sorry boys, duty calls." I stood and stretched for a minute.

The smiles had fallen off of their faces. "Good luck," Roman said.

"Yeah," Seth echoed. "Be careful, would you?"

"Always am," I replied, resting my hand on his forearm. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

I trudged up the stairs, feeling the weight of my situation settle back onto my shoulders. I'd forgotten, for a few short hours, that I wasn't actually a free woman.

I was mulling this over, again cursing my poor final decision as a GM, as I opened the door to our room. I walked part of the way in and turned around to walk back out.

"No," Ambrose said. "Stay awhile, Lizzy."

"Would you both care to put some clothes on?" I asked.

Ambrose laughed. "Turn around. Come back here."

I did, reluctantly, and confirmed that what I'd fleetingly seen before turning around was, indeed, the whole truth of the picture.

Ambrose was naked on the bed, facing the door, and kneeling between the thighs of an equally naked redhead who, at my best guess, was only just twenty-one.


	6. Chapter 6

"Sit down on the bed," Ambrose told me, nodding to the bed opposite of the one they were currently occupying.

Cautiously, I sat. I tried to avert my eyes, but they kept wandering back to Ambrose.

After a few incredibly awkward moments, he spoke. "Liz, this is…" he glanced down at the redhead.

"Candice," she helpfully supplied.

"Candice," he repeated, a small smile on his face as he reached down to lightly stroke her cheek. "Candice is…"

"Twenty." I'd been close, then.

Ambrose glanced up at me. "And she's my guest for the evening," he grinned through a curtain of hair. "We won't be disturbing you too much, I hope?"

"I'm already quite disturbed, Ambrose," I replied, raising an eyebrow.

"What's going on?" Candice, the twenty-year-old redhead asked.

"Shut up," Ambrose replied sweetly. "You're here for one thing, sweetheart – and it's not your conversational skills."

He thrust forward and she gave a soft moan. His eyes rolled back into his head in pleasure. "Oh Liz," he breathed.

"Candice," the girl repeated dubiously.

Ambrose rolled his eyes, looking exasperated. "I wasn't talking to _you_," he snapped. "I was talking to _her_." He nodded in my direction.

Candice started to squirm away from him. "I don't know what kind of weird thing you have going on, but I don't want to –"

He thrust into her again. "But you do want that, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied, sounding a little unsure.

Ambrose bent down and kissed her roughly. "Then shut up."

I looked away as he began thrusting in earnest, building up the tempo. She was moaning ever more loudly, but he didn't make a sound.

"Look at me, Lizzy," he said after a few moments. "Don't look away."

Disgusted, I raised my head. He grinned at me before leaning down to kiss her. I watched the muscles in his arm bulge and contract while he moved above her and tried to just keep my eyes focused there.

What was wrong with him? And what was wrong with this girl, who so obviously didn't care that there was something incredibly strange about the man she was letting fuck her?

Oh yeah. She was twenty. I remembered some of my conquests at that age and tried to give her a pass.

Tried.

"Oh Dan," she moaned, and I had to snort back laughter.

Ambrose stopped short. "What did you just call me?" He demanded.

"Dan," Candice said impatiently. "That _is_ your name, isn't it?"

He hauled off and slapped her across the face. "It's Dean, you stupid cunt," he snarled, thrusting into her roughly.

She opened her mouth again – presumably to scream – and Ambrose clapped a hand over her mouth.

I was horrified. She looked to me, tears forming in her eyes. This kid had gotten so much more than she'd bargained for. I couldn't let this happen to her.

"Ambrose," I said quietly. "Stop. The girl is terrified."

He glanced up at me, glaring angrily. "Our sweet little Candice is terrified. Well, I'm pissed off and horny. Would you rather it was _you_ dealing with me, Lizzy?"

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. God, I was going to regret this. "Yes," I said, meeting his eyes. "Yes. Just…let her get out of here."

The smile that spread across his lips was truly terrifying. It was the most predatory look a man had ever given me.

He slid away from the girl. "Get your shit and get out," he snapped at her. Tears running down her face, she hurriedly grabbed her clothes from the foot of the bed. "Now," Ambrose growled.

She gave me a brief look of mingled horror and gratitude as she made her way out, clutching her clothes in front of her.

The door slammed, and we were alone. I'd hoped that she had learned an important lesson about going into the rooms of strange men – because I was going to be the one paying for her poor judgment tonight.

Ambrose looked ridiculous and terrifying, kneeling in the middle of a rumpled bed with a blue condom on his half-erect penis.

"Get undressed," he said, standing up. I elected to just get this over with as quickly as humanly possible and was naked in record time. He was just finishing stripping the condom off over the garbage can.

He climbed onto the bed with me and, without any preamble, thrust deep inside of me.

"Oh Lizzy," he laughed, "apparently Candice did something for you." He bent down and kissed me, his tongue probing my mouth. "Or was it watching me that did that to you?"

"It was fantasizing about anybody else so I could get wet enough to get this over with quickly."

He laughed again, slowing his thrusting. "We're going to be here all night," he murmured next to my ear. "I knew that girl couldn't get me off anyway. Not after you." He reached down and lightly pinched my nipple. "She had those boyish hips and those little teacup tits. Not my type. I like a handful," he said, grabbing my breast to emphasize his point.

"Just shut up and fuck me," I snapped.

He raised an eyebrow. "I like it when you talk dirty to me, Lizzy," he murmured, burying his face in my neck while he did what I requested. I felt his teeth scrape against my skin and knew that there would be marks all over me tomorrow.

I closed my eyes, feeling an unfathomable anger welling inside of me. "God, I hate you," I finally said, disgusted.

Ambrose's head snapped up and, after a moment, he smiled at me. "Then get angry, Elizabeth," he murmured, slamming his dick into me. "Show me."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," he said nodding, bending down and biting my nipple.

It hurt enough that I slapped him, almost unthinking. As a result, I found my hands pinned to the bed while he continued to thrust into me roughly.

Finally, his breath harsh in my ear, I felt him pull away from me. His dick was rubbing on my stomach, and I felt a hot slippery sensation between our bodies.

"God," he moaned.

"There's no such thing," I said quietly, never more believing that statement than right now.


	7. Sequel

Hello once again! As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, private messaging, favoriting, following, and generally being awesome. An additional thank you for your input on the chapter length question!

The next installment has been posted and can be found under the title "You've Got To Give It to Me as Though You Want It Too." Happy reading!


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